


Warped Reflection

by GrannyBoo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alice-in-wonderland/Wizard-of-Oz/Pan's-Labyrinth style, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Illusions, M/M, Mostly the Pan's labyrinth, This will become very dark very quickly, dreamscape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-10 03:18:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13494664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrannyBoo/pseuds/GrannyBoo
Summary: “On this path we follow downOther friends will soon be foundIf we follow soon, you’re boundTo find,Your wayBack home”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY SHIT KIDDIE BEANS, WELCOME TO THE FIRST LENGTHY FIC FOR THIS FANDOM I'M GONNA DO AND SURE AS SHIT ITS PROBABLY GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME
> 
> Hope you all enjoy, feel free to come and scream at me in the comments or on tumblr at agentoakysart
> 
> Note the song lyrics in the title are original lyrics, put to the melody of the lullaby from Pan's Labyrinth which was a massive inspiration to the vibe of this entire fic so I highly recommend you go over to that song and listen because holy shit it works so well.

**_ Warped Reflection _ **

Fjord woke to the cold. Damp seeping into the back of his tunic and breeches and the invasive smell of mud and decaying leaves surrounding him as he opened his eyes. All he could see were trees above, flecks of moonlight filtering through and casting an eerie blue aura around him but he couldn’t recall how he’d gotten there. The air around him felt charged, a constant hum through his body that was unsettling but the strangeness of the sensation faded as he became used to it, bringing his attention to the rest of the world around him. A clearing.

He surveyed the clearing, small tufts of grass scattered amongst the dirt and roots while the surrounding brush grew thick and unyielding around him. A glance down and he realised he was only wearing a thin white tunic and some dark breeches; no shoes to speak of and his weapons-

Weapons?

He was meant to have weapons. Because he was an adventurer. He had a falchion.

Suddenly, the thick leather handle of a blade appeared in his hand, familiar and moulded to his grip.

“Huh.”

Fjord sat up, bringing the falchion to rest on the forest floor before him as he continued to look around, finding no other signs of movement save the few fluttering butterflies he saw darting through the trees until their blue wings were no longer visible. It took him a few tries to bring himself to his feet, his legs weak and unwieldy beneath him but he managed to stumble to a stand, using a thick white birch to steady himself.

He waited, listening carefully for any creatures before he took a few wobbly steps forward, the tremble in his legs soon waning and allowing him to move through the forest carefully. He had to nearly climb over the surrounding brush, tipping and falling forward into the thick, soft grass in front of him. He managed to pick himself up, eyes catching the no longer visible clearing that had been immediately behind him, instead before him lay more forest, dimmer than before and stretching out so much further than he’d thought.

“ _You’re not lost are you_?”

Fjord jumped, falchion held at the ready.

But there was no one there.

His eyes darted around, finding no one near him or even within sight. Save the bright, blue butterfly gently flittering by the trees.

“Who are you?” His voice echoed around him, returning in a hauntingly cheerful manner as if it were mocking him.

“ _I am me. Who are you_?” the voice called again, and Fjord spun around on the spot, pointing his falchion at the smattering of bushes a little ways away from him. Then he spun around again. Where the butterfly had been, stood a woman. Skin a vibrant blue and smattered with freckles, a wispy intricately woven dress swirling around her legs with her feet tipped in dainty pale blue slippers with bells on the ends.

“How’d you get there?” Fjord asked, his arm lowering slightly but keeping the blade pointed towards the strange woman. She snorted, waving off the question as if it were ridiculous to even need to ask.

“Isn’t it obvious? I flew,” she declared, turning to show Fjord the blue butterfly wings twitching on her back. Fjord’s arm dropped to his side.

“I…who are you?” he asked once more and she seemed confused by the question for a moment.

“Oh, nice to meet you. I’m J̸̟̾e̵̜͋s̶̛̯̀t̸̩̘̎̈́e̷̟͂̊r̸̢̛̞͐,” she replied, holding her hand out for him to shake. Fjord blinked and smiled, taking her hand with a bemused chuckle.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. What was your name?”

“It’s J̸̟̾e̵̜͋s̶̛̯̀t̸̩̘̎̈́e̷̟͂̊r̸̢̛̞͐,” she repeated but he couldn’t understand. She was saying something, he could see her lips moving and hear sound coming through but no matter how much he focused on it, he couldn’t figure out what it was that she said.

“Well,” she waved it off, taking his hand and moving it so their arms were linked together, leading him through the forest. “It doesn’t matter I suppose. What _does_ matter is that you, my dear friend, are lost,” she announced.

“I’m not lost,” he insisted and the woman looked up at him with an oddly blank expression.

“Where are you?”

“I’m…here,” Fjord murmured, head going fuzzy as he tried to recall where _here_ was or why he was there in the first place. “I was with…I’m…” he trailed off his voice going small but he was steadied by the firm grip Jester had on his arm.

“Its okay, we’ll get you home. We just need to follow the path,” she called confidently, dragging the man by his arm through the thick, rough brush that filled the forest floor.

“Wait, what path?”

“This one, silly,” she declared, waving her arm at the floor and beneath Fjord feet, where he’d sworn there’d been leaves and roots was a perfectly smooth stone pathway, the edges bordering it intricately engraved with carvings and spotted with glowing stones, spanning as far behind them and before them as they could see. Or at least as far as he could see.

“Come. We must get you home soon. There’s people waiting for you,” she informed him, arm still curled through his as she led him down the pathway with a certainty he couldn’t help but find a little bit of comfort in, along with the solid feeling of the falchion’s grip in his other hand.

As they walked, the quiet of the forest left an unsettled feeling in his stomach and, almost as if she sensed it, the woman started to hum. Then she began to sing.

“ _On this path we follow down_  
Other friends will soon be found  
If we follow soon, you’re bound  
To find,  
Your way  
Back home”

She continued the eerie melody, a lullaby that cut through the silence and, somehow, made Fjord feel less afraid, as if the words themselves were a spell warding off danger. He wasn’t sure where they were going or where it was she was attempting to help him get back to, but for now, it was alright.

-

In a small room on the second floor of an inn, a lone voice rang through the halls. A deep, accented voice that gently sang this eerie melody as the man meditated, focusing on a pathway, a solid pathway for his companion to follow to safety. Even if he couldn’t be there himself, to guide him, he could send thoughts of their friends to do so in his stead. It would take time. But they could guide him back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2000 fucking words later and its finally updated, sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy it, its gonna keep going, I swear.
> 
> If you wanna scream at me, feel free to do so in the comments or at agentoakysart on tumblr, go nuts.

**_ Chapter Two _ **

“Does it ever end?”

“What, Fjord?” the winged woman asked, skipping along beside her travelling companion.

“The forest, does it ever end? ‘Cause it feels like we’ve been walking for miles and nothin’s changin’.” Fjord’s legs were starting to tire from walking for as long as they had but no matter how much the woman skipped and danced down the stone path, she remained unbothered by the exertion.

“Oh, because we have. And it hasn’t,” she chirped, “this forest goes on for as long as you’re here.” The woman’s cheerful smile beamed at Fjord as she turned around, skipping backwards in front of him.

“Do you live here?” Fjord asked, looking around for any sign of life. Perhaps if he could find a village, he could borrow a horse and get back to-…

“Fjord, where are you?” the woman asked, leaning in close with her finger pressing gently against his forehead. “Where’d you go?” she added, but Fjord brushed her hand away and continued along the pathway. Fjord’s eyes flickered through the dense foliage and caught on something in the trees, looming and dark darting through the forest until it vanished.

“To answer your question,” she called out, pulling his attention back as she caught up to him and skipped alongside him. “No one lives here. We are just…here,” she answered cryptically, and the half-orc quirked an eyebrow.

“Well where do you live then?”

“Not here.”

“Well that’s about as helpful a broom in a desert,” he grumbled, pausing for a moment when he spotted something off the path. A lake. A massive lake; he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t seen it earlier; the shimmering, shifting water within surrounding a small island and on that island: a woman.

“Hey! Hey, you alright over there?!” Fjord called, seeing no boat or mode of transportation she could have used to get to the island. It was not too far a swim, but the water seemed to ripple with creatures, the occasional surfacing set of fangs or eyes making it clear she wasn’t getting away from it on her own.

“I’m fine. Leave,” the new woman called. But Fjord wasn’t blind. She was a decent ways away, sat on the grassy section of the small island with her legs cross and hands poised on her knees as though she were meditating but her face…it didn’t seem like the meditation was all that effective in calming whatever it was plaguing her mind.

“Bit of uh, bit of a funny place to meditate, huh? I mean, kinda hard to keep focused on inner serenity and all that business when you’re literally surrounded by monsters,” Fjord pointed out, walking the edge of the lake and trying to spot some sort of boat or raft but came up empty. He snatched his foot back when a creature slithered out of the water, jaws wide and ready to take a bite but as soon as he moved and swatted at it with his falchion, it darted back into the water with a screech and splash.

“If the monsters eat you can I have your shoes!?” the blue-skinned woman called out. Fjord reached back and waved her away.

“Goddamn, what’s wrong with you?” Fjord asked.

“I like her shoes.”

“Miss that’s- I’m just gonna call you Bluebell, you alright with that? Until my hearin’ stops going every time you say your actual name,” he asked, and the woman nodded with a bright smile on her face.

“I _love_ bluebells.”

“Well, Bluebell, can you please let me handle it and don’t ask to loot her shoes off her dead body?” Fjord asked and Bluebell considered it before turning and sitting on a rock by the path, waving a slender hand towards him as if to tell him to continue what he was doing.

“Miss, you look kinda distressed, if you need a hand-“

“ _I said leave._ It’s not safe,” the woman on the island shouted back, the tension in her face increasing, her shoulders rising up.

“I can handle myself pretty well. I don’t carry this falchion around for kicks. Plus none of these monsters seem too keen on steppin’ out of the water to get at me,” the half-orc walked back the other way, observing the woman as she sat, hands clenched before her. She was pale and looked exhausted but she kept her head high and her back straight.

“Its not the monsters you should be worried about.”

“Well what else is there to be afraid of?”

“Me,” the woman sounded both insistent and defeated all at once, and Fjord’s chest clenched a little.

“But you’re all the way over there-“ Bluebell called but a look from Fjord hushed her; she locked her mouth with an imaginary key and tossed it behind her.

“You seem alright. Haven’t tried to eat me or stab me,” Fjord turned back and paced the other way, watching for signs of creatures attempting to make a meal of the woman on the island but none approached.

“Because I’m alone. I can’t hurt people if I’m alone and I control it.”

“Control what, miss?”

The woman’s eyes opened, an intense stare focused on Fjord.

“The _anger_.”

“You don’t seem angry. You seem kinda…” Fjord trailed off.

“Lonely,” Bluebell chimed in, her chin propped up on her hand. “Why don’t you come with us? We’re taking Fjord home. I’m sure it would be a lot more entertaining than sitting on a tiny island all on your own,” she implored.

“I can’t. If I leave, I could hurt someone. I’m _dangerous_ ,” the woman snapped, teeth bared in a snarl as she attempted to resume her meditation. The waters around her thrashed, the activity rising with her agitation.

“Apparently not so dangerous you wouldn’t just hurt ‘em in the first place,” Fjord pointed out. The woman’s face twisted in confusion, but she didn’t speak. “I mean, you’re so worried about hurting someone that you got yourself stuck up on that island just to avoid it. Tells me that you’re probably gonna go through quite a few steps before you just go ahead and hurt people that don’t deserve it.”

The woman’s eyes opened again, and the monster breaching the surface of the water began to recede, vanishing into the depths until their movement no longer disturbed the gently rippling water.

“And who’s to say I haven’t already hurt someone?” she asked, a minute waver to her voice that he almost didn’t catch over the gentle lapping of the water against the shore.

“If you’d gotten that far, I get the feeling you wouldn’t have bothered coming here to meditate in the middle of monster infested waters,” Fjord watched the woman consider his words. She clenched and released her fists and the waters around her calmed.

“You don’t know me. Yet you seem to have more confidence in me than I have in my own restraint,” the woman asked curiously. Fjord shrugged.

“I prefer to have faith in others and be proven wrong than a lack of faith proven right.”

The waters were still, unnaturally so as if the fluid had turned into a pristine mirror surrounding the island as the woman stood and took a cautious step onto the surface. It held. She walked carefully towards them, small ripples disturbing the surface but, as a whole, remained stable. She made it over to Fjord and Bluebell, looking down at them with an unreadable expression.

“See. Ain’t nothing to worry about,” Fjord smiled, and the woman returned it with one of her own, even if it was a little strained.

“So, what’s your name?” Bluebell asked, appearing suddenly on the woman’s other side.

“It’s Y̶̦̪̒a̷̺̹̔s̸̗̅͆h̶̠̊͑ā̸̖̬,” she replied, and Fjord found himself gritting his teeth.

“Goddamnit it, what is with your names?”

“Is it happening again?” Bluebell asked, “One more time. It’s Y̶̦̪̒a̷̺̹̔s̸̗̅͆h̶̠̊͑ā̸̖̬.”

“Y̶̦̪̒a̷̺̹̔s̸̗̅͆h̶̠̊͑ā̸̖̬” The tall woman repeated but no matter how much they enunciated it, it was just static. Fjord just looked frustrated.

“How about,” Bluebell mused, “We call you Birch. You remind me of birch trees. With all that white and black and tallness,” she pointed out, stepping up on her tip-toes to try and match the massive difference in their height, failing miserably.

“Birch is fine. Nice to meet you,” she replied gruffly.

“I suppose we should head back to the path. Where are we going anyway? Where does the path lead?” Fjord asked, stepping back onto the engraved stone.

“To The Wizard. He can get you home,” Bluebell answered, skipping to his left while Birch trailed a little bit behind them.

“Who’s the Wizard?” the half-orc asked.

“He’s The Wizard,” she made it out as if it were obvious, leaving Fjord more confused than he had been before.

“He can bring you back,” Birch added.

“Back to what?”

Birch and Bluebell paused in their steps, eyes glassed over and the gentle rustling of the forest around them silenced to the point where Fjord could hear his own heartbeat.

“Back home,” they both stated in unison. They both looked to him, Bluebells dark blue irises and Birch’s mismatched aqua and violet eyes flickering into a vibrant bright blue that made Fjord’s heart stutter in his chest, filling him with warmth and fear.

“Where are you?” they both asked, voices layered over each other, with something else, someone else’s voice filtered in; a deep male voice with an accent Fjord found familiar and unknown all at once.

“I’m- I’m right here,” Fjord replied.

“Where is ‘here’?” Bluebell asked, her normally joyful features twisted into something deeply panicked.

“Tell me where,” Birch added, reaching out to grab Fjord’s shoulder, holding him in place as her eyes seared into his.

“I don’t know, _I don’t know!_ ” Fjord shouted, jerking his shoulder out of her grasp. Suddenly, Bluebell and Birch’s eyes returned to their normal colours and they looked confused.

“What’s wrong?” Bluebell asked, placing a gentle hand on Fjord’s arm. He flinched but shook it off. He must be hallucinating. Must be the forest, lots of weird stuff in this forest. It’ll be fine when he gets back home.

“Its nothing. We should go. Which way?” he asked and Bluebell led him in the right direction, Birch following after them. Bluebell kept her hand on Fjord’s arm, letting her warmth bleed into his skin with a comforting smile on her face.

“It’s okay. We’ll get you home. And then you’ll be safe.”

-

Caleb’s breathing was laboured, sweat stinging his eyes as he tried to hold the spell together but it was difficult, like wrenching his soul in opposite directions.

“Did he tell you where he was? Did he know?” Molly asked, holding Caleb’s shoulder to keep him from toppling off of the bed he was sitting cross-legged on.

“He doesn’t know,” the wizard replied, voice hoarse and eyes unfocused.

“Is he safe?” Yasha called from the doorway. Caleb nodded.

“He’s taken to the projections of you and Jester that I sent. But he may need more. There’s something in there. Something hunting him,” Caleb rasped, greedily taking the water Nott retrieved from the nightstand for him.

“You can’t take more of this. Even with your abilities, its going to ki-“

“I can’t stop, Nott,” Caleb cut her off with a hard look, blue eyes finally focused but still rimmed red and exhausted.

“Then rest,” Jester encouraged. “The projections exist on their own until dispelled right? They’ll protect him and you can get some sleep. Try again tomorrow,” she ordered. Caleb tried to work up the energy to argue but found himself slumping in exhaustion.

“Could someone wake me at sunrise?” he asked.

“We’ll wake you when we need to,” Molly replied sternly, pulling the blanket over Caleb and blowing out the candle. The rest of the party slowly filtered out of the room, leaving Nott, who gently brushed some of Caleb’s hair from his face.

“We’ll bring him back, Caleb.”

Caleb said nothing in return and waited until Nott left the room before he curled into as tight as ball under the covers as he could manage, falling into a light and fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, the next update will hopefully come out soon. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a fucking roll, hope you all don't kill me for the nonsense I'm pulling with this fic. Like always, hmu on tumblr at agentoakysart if you want to ask stuff or just scream at me in general. There's also art on there.

**_ Chapter Three _ **

The room was silent, the group placing themselves around the room as comfortably as possible, feeling the absence of their spellcaster, resting in his own room, and their half-orc companion who was entirely absent from the building.

“This isn’t working,” Yasha grunted, “we need to go out, hunt down that creature and beat it into submission,” she tense, hands twitching as she itched to do something she felt was more productive.

“And where do we start, Yasha? Did it happen to leave a letter, detailing the position of its lair?” Molly replied. She remained silent, but the clenched fists did not release. “That’s what I thought. We need to wait until Fjord can tell us where he’s being kept. After that, we can go in swinging but until then, we just need to make sure Caleb is alive enough to work on getting the location out of him,” the lavender tiefling sat back in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other while his clawed fingers rhythmically tapped on the stiff fabric.

“Caleb said Fjord doesn’t know where he is. Do you think he remembers the fight? Or the creature at all?” Jester asked, pacing back and forth in the room, her tail flicking back and forth in agitation.

“Maybe,” Beau piped up from where she leant back against the door. “But until Caleb wakes up and tries to communicate with him again, we won’t have any idea. For now, let’s research, figure out what it was that took him and how to kill it. Yasha wasn’t far off about finding it and beating it to a pulp but we’ll do a lot better if we can narrow down the search,” she nodded to the aasimar, Yasha’s jaw unclenching ever so slightly as she nodded in return.

“If anyone wants to join in on team Research, I’ll be in the library,” Molly announced, rising from the armchair, straightening his coat and walking briskly out of the room.

“I think you need to work out some energy,” Beau suggested, giving Yasha a gentle nudge to the arm. “Wanna spar?” the offer was met with a sharp nod and the women left as well. Nott and Jester remained in the room, the goblin girl’s hands twitching as she reached for her flask, taking a deep drink of whatever liquor she’d been able to acquire for it.

“Would you like to help Molly?” Jester asked, kneeling in front of Nott. She shook her head.

“I think I’d like to watch over Caleb. Make sure he stays asleep,” Nott replied. Jester nodded, giving Nott a gentle pat on the shoulder before leaving the room herself to follow Molly to the library. Nott sat in the silent room for a few minutes, soaking in the peace, hoping it would translate to some peace of her own that she could carry while she watched Caleb waste away looking for their friend. For…whatever it was Fjord was to Caleb.

While she wasn’t always the most observant person in the party, there were things about Caleb she knew as innately as she knew about herself.

She knew he couldn’t sleep unless there was noise. Something; the crackling of a fire, birdsong, people talking around them. If there was complete silence, he would just lie there and stay awake until the sun rose.

She knew he absolutely loathed almonds. Something about the smell made him nauseous and he refused to touch them, washing his hands religiously until the smell went away. She still wasn’t terribly sure why the intense disdain for them, but she did what she could to help him avoid them.

She also knew that whenever he thought the half-orc they travelled with wasn’t looking, he would admire from afar. There was nothing calculating or educational in the way he looked at Fjord, it was admiration. Adoration. Maybe even…

Nott took another drink of her flask and wandered out of the room, entering Caleb’s, quiet as a mouse as she took a seat by Caleb’s bed. The wizard appeared dead to the world, his closed eyes underlined by stark, dark bags the cut through the pale shade of his skin in a disturbing fashion. Nott clambered up onto the armchair, taking out her lockpicks and some practice locks she kept with her to keep her skills sharp and set to work, humming something to herself; out of tune and not really a song she’d ever heard before but the minute furrow to Caleb’s brow smoothed out and his breathing seemed to even out into something resembling a deep sleep so it did what it needed to.

-

Fjord watched the forest surrounding them, keeping a white-knuckled grip on his falchion while Bluebell chattered on about something to do with the pixies nearby where she lived. He managed to catch something about the snooty pixie that lived in a green toadstool near her before something crashed into the path beside them. Splinters and near disintegrated stone exploded around them when an enormous tree stump landed on the path, narrowly missing the three of them as it separated the trio, Bluebell and Birch on one side and Fjord on the other.

“What the fuck was that?!” Birch snarled, drawing a massive greatsword from the sheath on her back while Bluebell’s hands spread, glowing faintly with some pale light.

“I don’t know. It’s-“

Fjord didn’t finish his sentence as something appeared behind him, casting a looming shadow over him. He didn’t have a chance to look back as whatever the creature was slammed into him, the jarring creak of his ribs at the assault forcing the breath from his lungs before he was thrown from the path, rolling to a stop in the dirt. Fjord’s vision swam, ears ringing from when his head slammed into the ground but he still managed to focus enough to look at whatever it was that had hit him.

He nearly vomited.

It was tall, skeletal in appearance with a thin layer of something that could _vaguely_ be called skin if it wasn’t constantly dripping and sloughing off of it, hunched over on all fours and contorted into a grotesque position. It was as though a pile of sentient bones dipped itself in pitch and crawled out of the seven hells, glowing red eyes burning into him as it dripped onto the stone path, vicious claws extending from its bony hands clicking on the stone. It turned to charge him. The creature let out a ghastly shriek that rattled his very core, echoing through the trees.

“Fuck _OFF!_ ” Birch roared, swinging her great-sword into the creature’s side, the shriek petering off into a squeal when it landed on its side, scrambling back to its feet and snapping at the woman.

“That was rude, WE WERE WALKING HERE!” a burst of light emanating from Bluebell’s hands, the brilliant light searing the creature and caving in half the creature’s skull-like face before reconstituting, the glow in one of its eyes faded but slowly returned to full brightness. The creature’s glowing head twisted unnaturally, fixing its gaze back on Fjord as it twitched and stalked closer to Fjord, the needle-like teeth in its snapping jaws speaking of unbearable pain should it manage to get a hold of him. Fjord tried to crawl backwards, the jarring pain in his ribs forcing a gasp from him and rendering him unable to move; he could only watch as it moved closer, claws digging into rocks, dirt, spindly legs wrapping around trees to propel itself forward; closer; right before him-

His falchion, still in his barely-there grip, raised, almost of its own accord, putting itself between him and the creature. The metal shimmered, sparks of blue and purple mingling on the edge of the blade and darting out at the creature and shocking it before it could reach him. It let out sharp barking screeches, reaching a clawed limb out to swat at him only to be enveloped in the coloured electricity, surging up into its body. It hesitated before it let out one more shriek and darted off, leaving a trail behind it of sloughed off black sludge and chunks of bone that melted into nothing but puddles on the ground.

Fjord watched as his blade dropped to the ground, the sparks fading into nothing until the falchion lay on the ground, back to its regular state.

“Are you alright, Fjord?!” Bluebell called, rushing over to him, her wings fluttering frantically to the point where she managed to lift a little off the ground before she landed beside him. He carefully pushed himself up to at least a seated position, wincing and curling protectively around his ribs.

“I’m fine. Just some bumps and bruises,” he assured but she pouted at him.

“You’re a terrible liar. Did you know that? So bad at lying,” she berated, nudging his hands away and placing her on in their stead, the warm glow that still enveloped her fingers seeping into his clothes and flesh, soothing the pain until he could barely feel a twinge from what had to have been at least two broken ribs.

“Now you’re fine,” she announced proudly, helping him to his feet with a strength that seemed inconsistent with her slight frame. Birch approached, picking up the falchion and handing it to him with a gruff ‘here’ before patting the dirt off his back and shoulders.

“Thanks,” Fjord said with a sincerity that rendered Birch and Bluebell mute. The pair looked at each other, then back at Fjord.

“We’re performing our task,” Bluebell replied in a monotone that seemed disconcerting and very much not her. Not that Fjord could say why, he barely knew her but the matter-of-fact way she spoke and the blank expression she had unsettled him.

“Your task?” the confusion in Fjord’s voice seemed unnoticed by the two.

“We’re performing our task,” Birch repeated in that same monotone that, despite her gruff demeanour, still seemed just as unnerving as when Bluebell had said it.

“Regardless. Thank you,” he said, adjusting his grip on his falchion and offering the pair a smile. Bluebell’s expression snapped back into a brilliant smile as she linked their arms.

“Its no problem. Can’t have you dying a horrible death and being eaten by some stupid monster before we get you home,” she chirped, leading him back onto the path, passing by the portion that had been destroyed by the log that had been flung onto it. Birch followed after, her greatsword remaining in her hand and her eyes keeping a watchful gaze on the forest surrounding them.

-

“ _NO!”_

Caleb’s shout startled Nott out of her light doze; the man had flung himself out of the bed, covers tangled around his legs and body trembling as he dry-heaved onto the floor, a litany of half-Zemnian, half-common phrases spilling from his lips. What she could understand were panicked pleas, him begging someone to help ‘him’.

“Caleb, Caleb, its fine! It was just a dream,” Nott assured, reaching out to comfort her friend. He flinched back, blue eyes wide and wild as he looked up at her.

“ _Nein_ , it was- I-I was watching him. Some creature- it nearly-“ he began to heave once more, coughing up bile and saliva but not much else seeing as he hadn’t eaten for quite a while; pleading an unsettled stomach when they’d all had dinner last. Nott didn’t know what to say. She sat there, a hand poised over him, ready to assist when he wanted it. Caleb coughed and spat out the last of the vile taste in his mouth before he sat up, back resting against the edge of the bed while he wiped at his lips roughly.

“I need to get to work. I need to send more in to protect him. To find out where he is,” Caleb murmured shakily, more to himself than to Nott but the goblin girl nodded regardless, helping him sit back on the bed, propped up against the headboard. Caleb lit the candle on the nightstand, along with some incense provided by Molly before he closed his eyes, descending into his meditative state.

Inside the forest, the shadows haunting the depths of the trees faded, as if something were dispersing them and the darkness that permeated it lightened. Fjord felt a warmth surround him and a presence that made Bluebell’s smile brighter and Birch’s expression less stern and for the first time since the creature had attacked, he felt secure on the path to wherever it was they were heading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP, I AM DIE. Hope y'all enjoy this, feel free to scream at me on tumblr at agentoakysart and have some art I did for the fic.

**_ Enjoy the cover art <3 _ **

 

**_ Chapter Four _ **

“Ugh, this is so _stupid_ ,” Jester slammed her tome shut, the dust that had collected on its cover and pages exploding in a cloud around her face and forcing her to cough. “Just tell me what I want to know!” she shouted at the book, earning a withering look from the librarian sorting the books on the shelves nearby. Jester waited until he turned around and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Unfortunately, I don’t believe shouting at the books will work very well,” Molly called from behind his own stack of tomes.

“It’s not like just reading them is helping either. There’s like, thousands of books and not very many of them are useful,” she pouted, shoving one of the books across the table so it teetered on the edge until she gave the table leg a firm kick, and the book toppled onto the floor with a thud, landing open on a random page facing down.

“Then read quickly. Unfortunately, our best reader is currently unavailable,” Molly gave her a pointed look over the piles and she let out a small sigh.

“I’m worried for him. For them both.”

The admission was quiet, and it tugged at Molly’s heartstrings a little.

“I know. Its okay to be worried. But use that to help, even if all we can do is look through piles of dusty, old books,” he replied, giving her leg a small swat with his tail and a reassuring smile. She returned it and nodded, standing and retrieving the book she’d knocked off the table. Molly returned to his own reading only to glance back over when he noticed she hadn’t moved from where she was staring into the book at the end of the table.

“Jester?”

“The thing. You saw it, right? When it took Fjord?” Jester asked.

Molly did. While he’d been subject to the sight of a number of disturbing creatures, this still ranked high on his vomit and panic inducing list. And watching it drag one of their companions, Fjord, his eyes wide and choked screams from where it had its long, contorted and skeletal limb around his throat, dragged backwards into the smoke and darkness…

“I caught a glimpse,” Molly said curiously. Jester turned, darting around to his side, shoving a thick and dusty book in his face, too close to make out the images depicted or only a few words at a time.

“Was this it? You said slimy skeleton, right?” she asked, and Molly managed to nudge the book back just enough to look over the image, feeling the blood rush from his face as he recognised it immediately

“A _Draasta_ ,” Molly read, skimming over the description of this beast as well as examining the two different images beside it. One was of a horrifying skeletal creature, dripping a black viscous fluid, pinprick teeth the length of daggers and slitted, glowing orbs in its deep eye sockets. The other-

“We have to get this to the others,” Molly scrambled out of his chair, clutching the book under his arm as he ran and ignored the exasperated cries of the librarian to please check the book out while Jester ran after him, thanking her Traveller for the gift.

-

The trio were all on high alert for the first few hours after their encounter with the creature, eyes darting around the forest surrounding them for any sign of movement, making sure nothing approached them.

Which is why when two people, arguing very loudly with each other immediately behind them might have startled them so much.

“You’re such an asshole ~~M̵̩̼͌~~ o̸̭l̶̻̇ļ̴̘͛y̴̺̚.”

“Little bit of pot and kettle, isn’t it, B̶̼̜̊e̷̩̚͠a̵͍͎̐̊ư̶͕?”

It took a solid five or so seconds for the pair to notice Birch, Fjord and Bluebell, weapons drawn, and spells prepared to strike but even when they did realise the circumstances around them, they didn’t seem to pay much mind.

“Do you mind? We’re sort of having a discussion here?” one of the pair, a woman dressed in airy, blue robes, her hair shaved close to the sides with the still present hair on the crown of her head pulled back in a ponytail.

“It is pretty rude to point weapons at people who don’t deserve it,” the other, a man, lavender coloured skin and red eyes that glinted in the light of the stones lining their path. His clothing was extravagant; from the dangling jewellery adorning his curled horns to his ever-shifting cloak of many patterns and colours that never seemed to be the same thing twice with, otherwise, loose fitting comfortable clothes that put on display a smattering of patterned scars on his chest.

“How did you get here?” Birch snarled, her great sword poised before the horned man while Bluebell’s glowing hands stayed outstretched, ready to strike down the woman with divine light.

“We came by the path,” the woman replied with a wave of her hand along the stretch of stone they were navigating by. “Its not like there’s much else to follow.”

“Why are you two arguin’?” Fjord’s falchion lowered a little. He got the sense that, like Bluebell and Birch, these people weren’t intending them any harm. “I’m sure there’s plenty of space for you two to just ignore each other,” he pointed out.

“Yes, why are you arguing? What is it about?” Bluebell asked, and the two newcomers looked…confused.

“We…we just do. He’s an insufferable jackass.”

“She’s the worst of the killjoys.”

The pair started ranting, their voices overlapping and as they continued, a buzzing grew in the air surrounding them, starting as a low hum before it became near unbearable. The newcomers didn’t seem to notice, their argument becoming more and more heated as Fjord lost the ability to hear them, clutching his hands over his ears. Birch and Bluebell seemed to be struggling as much as he was. They needed to stop fighting, why were they fighting? They were both….they…

“You’re exactly the same.”

Fjord’s voice shouldn’t have been heard through the ear-splitting buzzing going through his head but as soon as he said them, there was silence and the woman and the man stared at him with equally offended expressions on their faces.

“What the shit- I am _nothing_ like him-“

“Comparing me to this judgemental fecking tosspot-“

“Shush!” Fjord waved his arms around, stopping when the tip of the falchion he’d apparently forgotten he’d been wielding nearly clipped Birch. “Same time. Ten words or less. Why do you hate each other?” he instructed, holding a hand up. They thought on it, the woman mouthing things to herself and counting out her words but the man worried at his cheek before he seemed to finally come to a decision.

Fjord dropped his hand.

“He doesn’t care.”

“She doesn’t care.”

The pair looked startled and stared at each other.

“Wait, what do you mean?” the woman asked.

“You’re always so ‘oh whatever’ and blasé about everything. It doesn’t seem like you care about much, if anything,” the man replied, waving his arms around as he spoke in a poor imitation of the woman.

“What? Of course I care. Its you who doesn’t care. You just run off doing whatever you please, no regard for the people around you. Tricking naïve people into doing what you want,” she retorted.

“I only screw with people that deserve it. If I do tricks to make people laugh and get a little coin out of it, what’s the harm? We’re both getting what we want out of it and I can help provide for my companions. What does your ‘no shits given’ attitude help?”

“Keeping everyone calm and focused. Or from getting too excited about stuff in case it doesn’t work out. People shouldn’t be hyped all the time. They need some time to stand back and think before they do stupid shit,” she crossed her arms, the action looking a little more defensive than she might have intended while the man fiddled with some loose hanging jewellery hanging around his wrists. “You think I don’t care about them?”

“Its not like you’ve given me much reason to. And it seems like we’re two apparently uncaring peas in a pod,” the man replied.

“I…I never really thought of your tricks that way. I just thought it was taking advantage of gullible people.”

“Well its easy to entertain the gullible when they can’t tell a trick from real magic. And entertaining is what I like to do,” the man said with a flourish, a fan of cards appearing in his hand then suddenly vanishing again.

“Sounds like a little misinterpretation of your motives, perhaps?” Fjord piped up and the newcomers shuffled awkwardly.

“Apparently.”

“I guess.”

“Well. If you’re done, then. We’re heading down this path so…” Fjord trailed off, a gesture from Birch giving him pause.

“They should come with us,” she proposed, looking down at Fjord. “Its dangerous. And more creatures may show up. Better to travel in a group than just the three of us.” Fjord thought on it and looked over the newcomers who watched him expectantly. If the scars on the man and the muscles on the woman were anything to go by, they survived a few fights.

“If they want, its up to you two,” Fjord gestured at the pair but at his words, their faces went blank and their eyes glowed unnaturally white, a quick glance towards Bluebell and Birch showing the same.

“ _We shall perform our task,”_ they all said in eerie unison, their voices blending together unnervingly. Fjord took a step back, their attention immediately being drawn to him and for what felt like forever, they watched him with those blank, white eyes until they finally flickered back to normal.

“Are you alright, Fjord?” Bluebell asked. “You look spooked.”

“I’m fine. Just…itching to get home,” he replied. Not much of an excuse seeing as he didn’t really know where home was…

“Well we should be getting there soon. Now that we have new friends to accompany us. What were your names? You were arguing so much I didn’t catch them,” Bluebell asked.

“I’m B̸͇̱̾͐ė̴̪̫̍a̵͈͛ṳ̶̿̈́ ̵͔̠͐-“

“Nope,” Fjord threw his arms in the air and walked over to the edge of the path, walking just far enough away that he could still make out his companions but be able to bury his face in his hands and scream as loud as he possibly could in frustration.

“He has some trouble with names for some reason,” Bluebell stage-whispered. “It goes in all jumbled and he can’t hear them, its super sad. I’m J̶̱̄͜ȩ̴̿̄s̴̡̾̄t̵̤͖̄̐ë̴͈́ṙ̸̯ but he calls me Bluebell. And this is Y̸̻̋̉a̸͍͓̓s̵̰̝̍͐h̸̤̑ͅa̴͙̦̿ but around him its Birch. What names would you like? Anything you want but we sorta have a theme going. You know-” she urged, motioning between herself and Birch.

“What? Colours?” the woman asked.

“Plants too.”

The pair thought on it for a moment.

“I think,” the woman murmured. “Poppy.”

“What, are you daffy? Poppies are red,” the man pointed out.

“Uh, no there are some that are blue. Just pick your stupid name,” she waved him off and paced around the path.

“Iris,” he said with a grin and Poppy rolled her eyes.

“A purple eyesore, just like you.”

“I like irises. The flower and this one,” Bluebell chirped, linking one arm with Irish and leading him towards Fjord so she could take his arm in her free one. “I believe its time to go then. We’re nearly at Her Trove.”

“Her?” Fjord asked, letting her lead him, the winged woman skipping along happily with the two men in tow.

“Yes. Her. The guardian of the treasure.” Bluebell called in a sing song voice, looking up at Fjord with a smile as she unlinked their arms to bop his nose with her finger. “She can lead us to the wizard.”

“Who is this wizard? Must be pretty powerful for you to be sure he can get me home,” Fjord mused.

“Oh, he’s not super powerful or anything. But he knows how to get you home. He’s pretty normal if a little bit on the stinky side. He smells-“

_-smells like the grass they’d just tumbled into at the bottom of the hill, their quarry dashing across the dark field as they lay tangled together for a few seconds longer than they should have but he was so warm, and his eyes-_

“Hey, Fjooord,” Bluebell called, waving a hand in front of his face. “Where’d you go, Fjord. Your eyes went all funny for a second.”

Fjord shook his head, the image of blue eyes burned into his mind.

“I’m…I’m good. Just daydreamin’,” he murmured, continuing on the path while Bluebell led the way, hoping that this wizard could help him.

-

Caleb was looking terrible.

Sweat dripped down his brow, his hands shaking from where they were resting on his knees and his face was pinched, jaw clenched tightly but every now and then he let out the smallest of gasps of pain.

“Caleb!”

Jester and Molly burst into the room, halting in the door when they saw the state he was in.

“Gods above. Nott, what is he doing?” Jester approached, kneeling beside the man on the bed as she checked over him.

“He was sending in more projections. There are monsters in there, and...and they hurt Fjord. But they fought it back,” Nott reassured. Caleb’s eyes slowly opened and he took a few deep breaths, slumping back against the wall his bed was pushed against.

“How is he?” Molly approached, sitting himself on the arm of the chair Nott was perched on, the book still under his arm.

“He’s good. Still moving. I’m building…I’m building a safe haven. Or I’m trying. Not much experience in these dreamscape magics, unfortunately,” Caleb let out a bitter chuckle as he caught his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow with an already drenched sleeve. Molly held the tome out for Caleb to take, already open to the correct page.

“We think…this matches the creature that took him,” Molly’s face was carefully blank, trying not to put any undue stress on the already stretched thin wizard. Caleb took the tome with a little bit of difficulty from the heft of it, dropped it onto the bedspread before him, blue eyes scanning over the pages quickly and becoming more and more darkened with worry the further into the passage he got.

_A fiendish creature, originally powerful sorcerers intent on extending their lives to indefinite ends, that utilises life-draining abilities to siphon the life of its victims and extend its own. The skeletal depiction is the form they use the least energy to maintain and is their primary appearance in the days approaching their need for sustenance. Feeding once the remaining lifeforce of the previous prey has been diminished, they seek out new prey, bringing the unfortunate soul to their lair where they are suspended in a dreamscape, unable to defend themselves as their life force is siphoned from them slowly and is used to fuel the_ Draasta _, as well as provide a new appearance. Once the transition is complete, the_ Draasta _must shed its previous form and inhabit the one left behind by its captured prey, living out the remaining years of their life wearing their bodies as a camouflage, prepared to hunt its next victim._

_There is no retrieving the soul of the consumed creature. Once it has been inhabited by the_ Draasta _, there has been no successful return by any magicks attempted._

Caleb’s hands shook as he leaned over and vomited in the waste bin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one today, folks. We're on the home stretch though, making for the plate. If you wanna scream at me in the comments or on tumblr at agentoakysart, fucking go for it. Hope y'all enjoy.

**_ Chapter Five _ **

It came while they were resting.

Fjord’s eyes were closed as he lay back on the stone path with his arms and legs outstretch, half-listening to the animated argument going on between Iris and Poppy while Birch tolerated Bluebell’s insistence on re-braiding parts of her hair that were slipping out of their chaotically organised arrangement.

The only thing that alerted Fjord to its presence was the _drip, drip, drip_ that pattered around his head before one drop of something thick landed on his cheek. He opened his eyes and had barely any time to react as the skeletal creature from before crashed down from the treetops, lunging for him with a horrific screech.

“ _Fjord_!”

Through the crash of its weight onto the stone around him and his own ringing ears, he couldn’t tell who called his name, but it wouldn’t do much good; its twitching limbs walled him in so he was trapped, lying on his back with it hovering over him, its glowing eyes boring into his. The others were surrounding him but hesitated, not wanting to harm Fjord on accident or aggravate it into killing him immediately.

The creature’s gaze darted from person to person before finally returning back to Fjord, a gravelled snarl escaping from somewhere in its form and, for a brief moment, Fjord was terrified. He wouldn’t find home, wherever that was. He wouldn’t find the people that were waiting for him. He wouldn’t see those blue eyes that were burned into the few memories he seemed to retain. Those blue eyes…

_Move_

A voice echoed in his head, strained and panicked in a way that made him question if it were his own or someone else’s. He couldn’t. Clawed limbs surrounded him and it hunched down, its pinprick teeth bared and ready to strike.

**_Move!_ **

The scream that tore through Fjord’s throat when the creature’s jaws clamped shut over his shoulder was piercing and uncontrollable. It was like hundreds of daggers being plunged into his flesh and acid poured into the wounds. It held on as the others assaulted it with a barrage of strikes, the creature’s body jostling but not quite letting go. Through the haze of pain, Fjord could hear a ringing in his head, growing progressively louder until he could recognise it as a scream; raw and terrified and echoing through his head until it blended in with his own. Through the cacophony of his companion’s strikes, his own screams and the unearthly screaming in his head, Fjord felt something deeply _wrong_. The wound where there creature’s teeth were still deeply buried grew cold, colder than blood loss or shock could ever be, it was a bone deep cold that drained every ounce of warmth and energy surrounding it, the sensation growing and making it to his chest and throat as it suffocated the screams emanating from him but the cries in his head just grew more agonised and panicked as if to make up for it.

Fjord’s vision began to tunnel, his mind going hazy until the screams became nothing more than static in his brain. He was going to die here.

 _Caleb_.

The name hummed in his mind like an old song, one filled with peace and calm but as he gradually lost the energy to move or even keep his eyes open, the feeling became tainted by an overwhelming sense of regret and Fjord wondered why this name meant so much. And it hurt. It pained him knowing, in his last moments that this person who he felt deep in his bones, wouldn’t be more than a barely recalled name in the back of his mind as he died in this strange forest without him knowing them…

“ ** _FJORD!”_**

The voice in his head became desperate and pushed back the encroaching darkness just enough to see his companions, all of their eyes stark white as they screamed, piercing and inhuman, and the area became engulfed in a burning white light.

Then, nothing.

The creature, and its teeth lodged in his shoulder, was gone. As were his companions, the empty space around him cold and darker than ever so even his own sharp vision was struggling to make out the shapes. The path beneath him was gone, leaving only shaggy grass and scattered plant-life that made it impossible to recall which direction he’d been going in.

He was alone.

-

“ _NO, NO NO_!”

Caleb struggled to move, his books toppling to the floor as he tried to remove them from their holsters. He was pale, a sheen of sweat on his skin and a crazed panic in his eyes as he flipped frantically through the pages, looking for something-

“Caleb. Caleb, mate, what happened?” Molly crouched down beside the wizard, trying to steady him but Caleb shrugged it away with a jerk.

“It attacked, I-I wasn’t strong enough- the projections are _gone_. Fjord’s alone right now, with no help, no _path, Molly!”_ he cried, finding nothing helpful in his books. He sat with his back against the edge of the bed and closed his eyes, heart still beating in his throat as he tried to concentrate on recreating the path, sending in anyone; but the exertion of fighting the assault the _Draasta_ had struck against Fjord’s mind, the memory of its teeth in him, draining him, _killing him_ -

“Caleb!”

Molly’s sharp bark snapped Caleb out of the worst of his panic, seeing the concerned looks on his friend’s faces.

“You’re _bleeding_ ,” Molly pointed out, and sure enough, twin drips made their way down his lips from his nose steadily. “You need to stop.”

The panic resurfaced.

“ _Nein_ , Molly he cannot find anything, he’s lost and the _Draasta_ , it will come back-“

“You look about two steps from death yourself; there’s no way you’re going to survive recreating all of that shite you sent in before. Your brains’ll bleed out your ears first,” the tiefling knelt down in front of him while Nott came up beside him with a handkerchief, helping him staunch the blood. “I know you want to help-“

“You don’t understand. He’s there because he was protecting me,” Caleb admitted, “I was not paying attention, the creature, it-…he shoved me out of the way. He is in that hell because I failed him. I will not do him the disservice of not doing everything I can to return him home safely,” his form was shaking, his blue eyes glassy with the exhaustion of maintaining so many spells and effects over such a long period of time but his words were firm. Molly stared him down but Caleb didn’t blink.

“Fine,” Molly sighed, “but only send in one. Pick _one_. Don’t stretch yourself so thin. Beau, Yasha and Jester are searching the town just in case its still nearby. Nott and I will watch you and pull you out if you start to… _somehow_ look worse than you already do,” he insisted. Caleb nodded, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

-

Fjord wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there, alone in the dark.

His shoulder ached, his body felt this strange combination of numbness and aching and he couldn’t find it in himself to cry or even feel cheated by this. It wasn’t as though he were losing much, right? He remembered barely more than his own name. The only thing he seems to remember beyond the world of the forest were a pair of blue eyes and a name that meant nothing to him and everything at the same time.

“Who the fuck is Caleb?” he grit his teeth as he put his head in his hands, closing his eyes against the dark and-

There was something.

Something warm filled his chest and mind with the hope for not-yet-realised possibilities; echoes of feelings like the flutter of sudden affection, the swell of adoration. But underneath it all was the quiet ache of…unfulfillment. As if those moments, whenever they’d occurred, were only that. Brief moments in a void of unrequited emotions.

He felt warmth and adoration when he thought of those blue eyes, but with that ever-present weight of ‘if only’.

How can a set of eyes instil all of that when he can’t even remember the person they belong to?

“Not a very good place to be. Not all by yourself.”

Fjord’s eyes snapped open and in front of him was a little girl; skin green where it wasn’t covered with haphazard wrappings and a loose-fitting cloak, her golden eyes peering at him with something akin to recognition.

“Not like I chose to be here. You gonna eat me or help me?” he asked.

She cocked her head at him.

“Why are those the only options?”

“Because it’s all the things and people here seem to do.”

She let out a small huff of a laugh and motioned for him to follow. He rose to his feet, shakily with the help of a nearby tree but he still managed, making his way behind the little girl. She looked up at him and held out a small, bandage-wrapped hand.

“In case you trip over something. It’s a little bit of a walk to the Trove and its dark and hard to navigate. Unless you know the way,” she explained, and the destination rang a bell.

“You’re-…My companions were telling me about you. You’re her. The Guardian of The Treasure,” he murmured, and she nodded, leading the way with a gentle tug whenever she needed to direct him around plants or ditches. “What kind of treasure do you guard?”

“Oh, it varies. It used to just be sticks and rocks. But then I met The Wizard. So, I help him guard his treasures,” she explained.

“And what does this wizard treasure?”

She hesitates.

“It used to be books. They were the be all, end all of the things he cherished.”

“And now?”

The Guardian glanced up at him and smiled warmly before turning her eyes onward, towards their unseen destination, hand tightening around his for a brief moment.

“His treasure is worth far more than pages and binding.”

-

 _Denied. Once again. Again but these_ children _._

_Not even children, little more than suckling babes._

_But it hurt. The light. It stung. It_ burned _._

_But the hunger will be fulfilled. A new vessel must be forged._

_A new soul must be consumed…_

_The body has weakened._

_All that is left is the mind. A strong mind._

_But no matter the strength, minds can be broken._

_His_ will be broken.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one kiddy-beans but hope you enjoy nonetheless.

**_ Chapter Six _ **

“He’s…he’s okay,” Caleb murmured, a sigh of relief releasing the tension in his shoulders but his eyes remained closed and he continued to concentrate.

“Thank the gods,” Nott slumped in the armchair.

“It gives us a little more time, at least. We need to find this bloody thing and kill it or this,” Molly gestured to Caleb’s over-worked state, “will have been for no good reason,” he collected his swords from the ground beside him.

“Are you going to go help the others look?”

“Its not like I’m much help here. You stay. If Caleb needs to be dragged out again to keep from killing himself, please do so. For a so called ‘coward’, he is far too quick to sacrifice his own well-being for others. Or at least…” Molly trailed off, the ‘certain people in particular’ hanging in the air. Nott nodded and the swordsman left. Nott sat in the armchair quietly, taking a quick swig of her flask, her fingers to shaky to attempt to practice with her picks again. She would just stand guard and protect Caleb from his own rare lapse in his self-preservation instincts.

“Can’t see him again if you’re dead before he gets here,” she pointed out, unsure if he actually heard her, but it still needed to be said. The room went quiet. And she waited.

-

“It’s a little scary to be living here all by yourself,” Fjord said quietly and he felt the hand he was holding shift as if she had shrugged.

“I don’t live here. I’m just here, for now,” she replied.

“That’s what some of the others said,” Fjord pointed out, “what does that mean? You’re just…”

It dawned on him.

“This isn’t real.”

The Guardian shook her head.

“No. It isn’t. This is a dreamscape. The others and myself and even the path you were walking on were the product of the Wizard. The forest is actually a place you’ve been put by the creature. Somewhere you’d feel the least at home or in control,” The Guardian explained, ducking underneath a felled tree and gently directing Fjord to do the same.

“So why am I in this dreamscape? And what is the creature that’s been huntin’ us?” Fjord could see the forest around them brighten a little and in the distance, just through a particularly thick cluster of trees were lights, flickering gently and casting dancing shadows around them.

“It is a _Draasta_. A creature whose only need is to consume you and take your body to keep as a vessel. Its…He’s trying to stop it. Or at least keep you safe from it until your friends can find you in the real world,” she stepped out of the tree line and glanced between their hands. Fjord continued holding it. The proud part of himself insisted that it was to protect this child. The less proud part admitted it was comforting having her hand to hold, something to ground him when he felt like he was drifting further and further from what few things he knew as they approached their destination.

The building they stood before was a ruin; something that could have been a palace were it not for the cracked windows, worn stone and burns and cracks that ran through the walls like scars. The only thing that seemed sturdy was the heavy oak door; the intricate carvings set into the wood and the brass door knocker all in a script Fjord couldn't understand and it seemed to hum with an underlying current of energy that filled him with a sense of security, something he’d been lacking since his first awakening in the forest.

The Guardian brought him closer so she could reach up on her toes, clawed fingers curling around the ring of the brass knocker.

_Clack, clack. Clack, clack._

As she finished the simple knock, the humming ceased and the subtle feeling of _wrong_ seeped into his skin and left him feeling cold and on edge. For a moment, there was nothing.

And then the door creaked open. The entire place felt...abandoned. Bar the single candle left lit on a side table by the door in a small silver tray, as if it were only for them. The Guardian took the small candle and held it up in her free hand, taking a few careful steps inside as the door closed behind them with a click. As soon as the door closed, the humming returned, and the feeling of safety with it as well, as the pair made their way further into the palace. The candle brightened the dim halls, illuminating the paintings and doorways they passed by; some paintings were of peaceful landscapes, sprawling grassy fields with a cart in the centre, an enormous lake surrounding a lonely island with scattered golden eyes and flickers of fire.

Some were of people. Most whose faces appeared blurred, as though the artist had finished the work and someone just swiped at it to obscure the subjects’ features. But he recognised bits and pieces. Blue skin and a flowing dress. A magnificent coat and a flourished hand. Loose fitting blue robes and folded arms. A tall imposing figure with stark white skin. A little girl with ragged clothes clutching something gold.

A filthy brown coat and a book held with careful hands.

The only subject that appeared clear was him. Amongst these blurred faces and vaguely familiar aspects, his face was the only one unobscured, sometimes with a grimace of pain, but those were few and far between, with slightly cracked frames and hidden in corners. The ones more proudly displayed were ones of him smiling. Being handed a goblet of something auburn, hunched over himself in laughter.

And one partially covered painting, a gentle brush of the cloth over it showing his own face, looking awestruck against a backdrop of blue sky and trees, the gentlest wash of rose coloured paint over the scene.

-

“Its been forever,” Nott squeaked to herself, peering out of the window for any sign of their companions, glancing over towards Caleb. The man still hadn’t moved, deeply immersed in his meditative state. His breathing was steady and his face smoothed out. At least he seemed calmer than he had in the past few days but he still hadn’t eaten for a while and the pale pallor to his skin hadn’t eased at all.

Food. Food would help Caleb. He needed to eat. Nott quickly grabbed her coin purse, bolting out of the room and locking it behind her. She would only be gone a minute or so. Caleb would be fine in the room.

-

The paintings grew fewer and farther apart until they stopped appearing entirely, the walls instead covered with burns and marks and some places that were constantly dripping, but the Guardian continued along, the candle held before her and they eventually came to a door.

“The Wizard is here,” she explained, tugging him forward that little bit more so he was standing before the door and she was beside it. It was simpler than the door that lead into the palace itself with a single plaque at eye level flickered and shifted but he managed to catch the word ‘safe’.

“Can we go in?”

She motioned for him to take the candle.

“I am only here for your protection. To lead you here. I’m just a product of the wizard. Like the path. And your other companions in the forest. Fjord. You need to answer the wizard’s question. He’s been asking it of you for a while,” she instructed.

“I’ve never met him, how’d he ask me a question?” Fjord felt the hum around him surge and a distant barking screech sounded, followed by the slam of a massive form against stone and wood. But nothing further, save the humming, the pattern of it changing from a constant vibration to a pattern. A melody.

“Its been asked of you by all his projections,” The Guardian’s eyes faded from their vibrant yellow to a stark white as she tilted her head to the side. “Where are you?”

-

Nott returned, a few plates balanced on her arms and she barely managed to unlock and open the door.

“Can’t have you starving, you’re so squishy already. Can’t have you being squishy and thin. Although it _would_ make you harder to hit-“ she mused, glancing towards the empty bed.

Empty.

Gone.

Caleb was gone.

-

“I’m here, _you’re_ right here, askin’ me that!” Fjord shouted, the panic that filled him cracking his voice and forcing his heart to race. He hated this. He hated this feeling of _wrong_ and _alone_ and he wasn’t alone but _fuck_ , he was because this little girl, with her familiar ragged robes and little green plaits wasn’t really there at all; she was an illusion, some fabrication that he swore was only there to torment him.

 _“You are in a dream. Your consciousness is here. Where is your body? Where did the creature take you?”_ She asked, voice layered and piercing and bone-chilling in the echoing halls, the same words being parroted back but by other voices, like Bluebell’s and Birch’s, Iris, Poppy. They all blended together until it was one voice asking him-

“ _How do I find you, Fjord?”_

…

And Fjord remembered.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fucking shitballs, another one. Probably only like two or three more chapters left hopefully, then onto the next project. Hope y'all enjoy, I'll be on tumblr at agentoakysart or just scream at me for horrible things I do to all of you in the comments below. Ciao friends.

**_ Chapter Seven _ **

_It was cold._

_That was the most solid memory Fjord had of the place. A descending staircase leading into a basement filled with books and chests and all manner of things he could barely focus on when he could barely remain conscious._

_The creature had covered his mouth as he’d been dragged out of the trap filled room, eyes briefly catching someone’s before they’d all disappeared from sight. He could remember where he was taken, each turn and alleyway he’d been hidden in until they’d arrived at a small cottage on the edge of the town. It had ripped open the cellar doors with a gangly limb, crawling inside and bringing him along. For some time, its necrotic sludge dripping hand had covered his face in a way that covered his nose and mouth, stealing the air from him and leaving him dizzy and barely conscious until its grip had been jostled by the wall of the cellar, letting him pull in a few desperate gasps for air._

_“Get-“ his voice was raspy and thick but it levelled its vicious glowing eyes at him, stripping all the bravery he’d felt in that brief moment of oxygen-deprived delirium and silenced him. It shoved him towards a table, raised and covered in harsh script, with straps for each limb and one to wrap around his neck. He struggled. He tried, but he was never that strong and for once he really wished he was as it pinned his arms and legs down and strapped him to the table, a cloth stuffed in his mouth to silence any future attempts at pleading, begging, screaming for help._

_A strange sense of calm came over him, like the gentle push and pull of the ocean when you let go of your last breath and let the water fill your lungs and the hissing that the creature voiced turned to the gentle shushing white noise of water._

_And then the room went dark._

_And he awoke, cold and alone in the centre of a forest._

-

“CALEB’S GONE!” Nott’s screeching and panicked voice cut through the square and got the attention of the entire party as well as some nosey townspeople.

“What do you mean, ‘he’s gone’. Where did he go?” Jester knelt down in front of Nott, hands outstretched to try and calm her like one would a skittish animal but Nott remained frantic, eyes darting everywhere and nowhere.

“I went to get him food, I left for a moment and he was just gone, no one saw him leave and the door was still locked!” her yellow eyes began to tear up, hands shaking almost violently.

“Shit, _shit!”_ Molly buried his fingers in his hair and joined Yasha’s frantic pacing.

“He can’t have gone far, the guy could barely walk, he’s not going out of town anytime soon,” Beau reasoned. Jester held her arms out to Nott and the goblin girl took the invitation, flinging her arms around the tiefling in a hug as she let out breath after shaky breath.

“I swear, I was only gone a minute, just a _minute_ -“

“I know, its okay,” Jester shushed, patting her back. Then something fuzzy touched her hand.

Frumpkin curled around Nott’s legs, rubbing his head against her and mewing softly in an attempt to join Jester in comforting her.

“Kitty! Can you tell us where Caleb is?” Jester asked, leaning down to speak eye-to-eye with the cat. It blinked and let out a meow, flicking its tail back and forth but remained where it was. “Kitty, you’re too adorable to be this unhelpful.”

“It’s a cat, without Caleb around, its just a fecking cat,” Molly sighed. Frumpkin sneezed and rubbed at his nose with his paw before he took off, darting towards the edge of the square. Before he could disappear completely from view, he paused, looking back towards them as if he were waiting.

“We are not following a cat.”

“He knows, he sneezed! He’s telling us he knows where Fjord is!” Jester squealed, leading Nott by the hand in a dash towards the cat. Frumpkin took off and it took only a few seconds before Yasha went after them.

“We’re chasing after a cat, aren’t we?” Beau huffed, side-eyeing Molly.

“Looks like it,” he replied, nudging her forward to join him, “but its not like there’s a better option.”

-

When Fjord slipped out of the flash of images and sensations, he was alone once more. But not in a forest. He was still standing before the wooden door, a steady drip somewhere in the hall and the hum of energy coursing through the dilapidated palace with a candle in a tray in one hand and a newly freed hand gripping the doorknob, not recalling when he’d reached for it.

He knew where he’d been. He knew where in the town he was. He could tell the Wizard. He could get home, maybe before the _Draasta_ consumed him.

He turned the door handle.

Inside was a small room, a few random pieces of furniture, all decaying and practically unusable. No one sat in view of the doorway but a quick glance around revealed the edge of a boot just past the end of the moth-eaten bed. Fjord proceeded forward, the candle casting shadows around until the light breached the corner of the bed, showing a thin, pale man with a mess of russet hair. His eyes were closed and his hands were perched on his crossed knees in a meditative pose while his lips moved subtly and a gentle hum rumbled in his chest.

“Hi.”

Fjord’s voice cut through the near silence of the room and the humming stopped. The man opened his eyes and looked up at Fjord with an exhausted but genuinely glad expression.

“Hello.”

“I hear you’re chasin’ my location,” Fjord joked, feeling a little odd under the gaze of this man who looked at him so fondly. But the eyes were familiar. The blue eyes from his flashes. “Caleb.”

“You remember. Thank the gods,” The Wizard breathed a sigh of relief. “I promise, I’m working on it. I’m working on something. A way to pull myself through then I can get you and we can find the others. Its difficult but-“

“What others?”

The Wizard went quiet for a moment.

“The others. J̷̫̏ë̸̖́ṣ̴͉̈́ṭ̴̾e̷̬̞͒r̸͉̈́̽.̷͍̫̚ ̴̱͘Y̴̬̹̎̕a̷͚̒͜s̵̤͊h̷̠͐̚ͅȃ̶̱̠,̸͚͑ ̵̗̄̇M̴͓͊̈́o̶̟̦͂̏ḽ̵̊ĺ̵̮̬y̴̥̑̑,̸̻̯̏ ̶̙̻̓N̴̫̆̀ő̷̗̲t̸̳̝͑̅ṭ̴̔͝-̴̝͚͘-“ Caleb rattled off the names but the static built until Fjord’s head was vibrating and he dropped the candle, snuffing it in an instant when he covered his ears to try to block it out. He waited and it abated, and Caleb sat there looking up at him with confusion and not a small amount of panic.

“But- you remembered. You said my name, _you called me by name_ , Fjord,” he insisted.

“Its about all I can remember. All I got is I’m Fjord, I have a sword and your name is Caleb. Who the fuck are you, why do I remember you and nothin’ else?!” he shouted and the man flinched backwards as if he’d been physically struck.

“It must…It still has a hold over you. It is filtering information to ensure you are difficult to find, but I swear, Fjord, I am here to help you,” Caleb pleaded, “Tell me where you are. I can find you and come and get you.”

Fjord hesitated, gripping his falchion tighter. Who’s to say this man wasn’t in league with the creature. It could just be a sick game, it plays with its food before it just tears them to pieces. But Fjord felt the swell of warmth in his chest as he looked at The Wizard, at Caleb. And he remembered that moment in the field. Lying there and being lost for a moment in those blue eyes that were before him in that room, pleading with him. And for a moment he thought to himself, if this was a game, if this man and the feelings he invoked in Fjord were an illusion…he could deal with it being the last thing he felt. And amongst these realisations, was one more. A thought that turned the chill in his spine to a complete numbness. _The room was silent_.

“I’m in a cottage. Its on the edge of town, by the bakery. It has a red roof and a cellar door. I’m down there,” Fjord explained, kneeling down in front of the other man, placing his falchion down beside him in the dust. Caleb let out a breathless laugh and nodded but his smile faded at the sight of Fjord’s blank expression.

“What’s wrong? It’s going to be fine,” Caleb reassured, reaching out and covering Fjord’s hand with his but it felt cold.

“No. It isn’t.”

“Why isn’t it? We can find you,” Caleb couldn’t understand, why couldn’t he see what was wrong? Fjord looked him in the eyes with resignation.

“The humming stopped.”

Caleb’s face paled.

“I-…what?“

“It was you. Protecting the place with all that humming. A spell, right? But you saw me. And you stopped concentrating. The humming stopped,” Fjord’s voice was barely a whisper and his right hand curled around the grip of his falchion. Beneath the staggered breathing and the gentle rasp of fabric against skin was a low rattle-like growl and the clicking of talons against stone.

“Thank you, Caleb. I know you tried. Thank you, so much for trying.”

And Fjord turned to raise his falchion against the creature as it lunged. If there was one thing he was going to do before he died in this dreamscape hell, it would be to protect Caleb. It was something he knew and felt as instinctively as his name.

As its teeth drove into his skin and he let out a piercing scream, he felt Caleb’s hand grip onto his shoulder and a sudden rush around him as the palace vanished. In its place, the basement of a cottage with a table, books and chests.

Caleb gripping one of his shoulders and the creature’s teeth buried in the other.

-

“It led us to a fucking bakery, _it doesn’t know where they are, it wanted snacks!”_ Yasha roared, slamming a fist through the side of a barrel, startling a few townspeople into scurrying away, muttering something about fetching the crownsguard. Beau attempted to calm her while Molly breathed and attempted to collect his thoughts. The most rational one in a gaggle of lunatics. Fantastic.

“We haven’t searched this part of town yet. Start knocking on doors and maybe-“

A scream rang through the streets, emanating from the cottage next door. A familiar scream, one coloured with pain and it made Molly’s blood run cold.

They ran for the cottage.


	8. Chapter 8

**_ Chapter Eight _ **

The pain in his shoulder was nearly as excruciating as the pain coursing through his head, the stream of memories and information that returned to him only took an instant but felt like a decade. He couldn’t move, the leather straps of the table keeping him still, his falchion forming in his hand as if it were responding to his stress but all it could do was hang there in his hand uselessly.

Caleb’s hand was still on his shoulder, finger’s white-knuckled and trembling as he stared at the creature, blue eyes meeting glowing red in a hazy unfocused way, as if he were on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.

“ _Shit_ ,” Caleb breathed, releasing his hand from Fjord’s shoulder and darting back a step just as the creature released its jaws and swiped at him, the long talons narrowly catching Caleb’s shirt, leaving a long slash across the expanse of his chest. The wizard stumbled backwards, his foot catching on a crate and sending him tumbling backwards onto the floor while the _Draasta_ scrambled over the table, jaws snapping and a vicious screech rattling its chest.

“Caleb!” Fjord’s voice was hoarse and cracking from disuse and panic but Caleb didn’t look towards him, instead gazing fearfully up at the creature, fingers digging through his pockets. He managed to pull out his diamond, spinning it like a top in the palm of his hand and launching sparks of flame at the _Draasta_. It let out a horrific roaring screech and rolled itself in the dust of the room for a few seconds, managing to put itself out. It pulled back its grotesque, contorted arm and struck Caleb so hard he slammed into the wall, letting out a pained shout before he crumbled to the ground, unmoving and Fjord felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“ _Caleb!_ Caleb say somethin’!” Fjord struggled, weak and futile against the thick leather and all it managed to do was gain the creature’s attention once more, its hulking form stalking back towards him, teeth bared and eyes fixed on his.

“ _Sur. Ren. Der._ ”

The rasping voice wasn’t made for common, it was choked and barely comprehensible but it managed, looming over Fjord with a clawed limb grazing threateningly against his throat. He could feel something brushing over the edges of his mind, a presence that circled it like a predator around a sick calf and Fjord looked up at it, that feeling of numbness returning from when he’d first encountered this creature in the dreamscape.

If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to do so crying and pleading.

“Fuck you,” he spat in its eye socket and stared it down as it lunged forward, burying its teeth into his shoulder forcing a choked scream from his throat. The drain was immediately noticeable, leaving his limbs cold and his thoughts sluggish. He barely registered the slam of the cellar door or the crash of bodies into the room.

His vision darkened, his breaths grew fewer and farther between until he had to remember how to draw that stale air back into his lungs and the whole time, the _Draasta_ jaws stayed clamped around his shoulder like a dog refusing to release its newest toy.

Lights flashed from above, flames caught on its pitch-like skin and hands grabbed but it wouldn’t budge.

Finally, the darkness encompassed him. And everything went silent.

-

It was dark. But it wasn’t cold.

It was quite warm in this void, where Fjord sat, suspended in the inky blackness with a form in front of him, mirroring his posture and expression and, really, his everything. A copy of him sat a few feet away, falchion propped on his knees and hands curled around the blade and grip.

“Well,” the copy spoke, his tone casual and oddly muted despite being right in front of him. “That didn’t go as well as anticipated, now did it?”

Fjord fought through the cotton filling his mind, trying to process what was happening. He could feel, dimly, the sensation of pins and needles in his shoulder. A splitting headache. A weakness in his limbs that seemed unnatural.

“Don’t suppose it did.”

“When I provided you some of my power, I’d hoped I’d get a little more out of it. Like maybe a few more years, some more information, powerful items. But instead you get ripped outta your body by a tar-skeleton. It’s pretty disappointing, kiddo,” Copy mused, inspecting his nails before fixing his golden eyes on Fjord.

There was a flash. The darkness above them flickered with white and gold for a moment and the distant rumble of thunder caught their attention.

“It seems your friends are tryin’ to retrieve you. Tenacious, aren’t they?” Copy let out a small chuckled before turning his attention back to Fjord. “Its almost temptin’ to return you.”

The clothing, which had been a perfect copy of Fjord’s slowly shifted, the greys and brown shifting into blues and greens, appearing damp and embroidered with designs that reminded Fjord of the ocean, the sea life at the bottom and the remains that washed up on the beaches and the Copy’s eyes glowed eerily bright while his skin paled to an ashen green.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to let me go back? So I can do more? Not much I can do here,” Fjord’s mouth felt unwieldy, the words slurring as he spoke them.

“That’s funny,” Copy replied with a cheerful grin that took on a manic quality and unsettled Fjord deeply. “Its like you think you have anything to offer me in exchange for your useless life, like the things and information you’ve gathered were worth anything more than the rottin’ flesh you’ll soon be. They sure don’t have anything,” he motioned up to the space above them where wisps of light filtered in, taking the shape of his companions and flitted around the room until a glowing, blue replica of the basement scene formed before then. Fjord stood, stumbling a little but managing to remain upright as he approached, seeing Jester kneeling beside him with a wavering look of concentration on her face.

“ _You need to offer something. We need something convince his soul to stay,”_ she instructed, and the others paced, pulled their hair, trying to think of things to provide.

“I want to stay,” Fjord whispered, wanting them to hear him but they didn’t respond. Nott approached his prone form, kneeling beside where they’d lain him on the floor, unbound from the table; she offered something to him, a little flask.

“ _I got some firewhiskey from the last town we were in. It’s the nice stuff, I made sure. I was going to save it for your birthday but…well I wasn’t sure when it was,”_ she explained, hands shaking as she pressed the little silver flask to his chest and placed his unmoving hand over it. “ _You gave me something for my birthday, even if I don’t really have one. Its not fair to not let me return the favour,”_ she sniffled and wiped furiously at her face as the words devolved into distressed noises and she was shuffled towards Yasha, the aasimar letting her bury her face into her hip.

“Why can’t I stay?” Fjord asked, the Copy appearing at his side to observe with him.

“Because you need to be worth the energy required to send you there. You are not tied to that plane. You are Here and they have yet to interest me enough with their trinkets. You bound your soul to me when you borrowed my power and so it is mine to do with as I please and at this time, it is worth more as a scrap to tear to pieces,” the Copy answered, watching Molly scribble something on a piece of parchment he’d ripped from a table, teeth gritted and hands shaking as he placed it down on Fjord’s chest.

“ _That is the truth. That’s where I come from and why I was in that circus and about my swords. Now wake the fuck up and read it because this is just-,”_ Molly hissed, his words cutting off and being replaced by a grunt and a vicious kick to a crate before he sat down on another, head in his hands and tail flicking agitatedly.

“Hm. Information that could be useful,” Copy mused, the same piece of parchment on Fjord’s chest in his clawed fingers. Fjord couldn’t quite make out the scrawl before it vanished in a gust of wind and scattered like grains of sand into the void. “They’re getting warmer,” he added, circling around the group of glowing projections until he was beside Caleb, the wizard hunched over in pain but still making his way to Fjord’s side, taking his limp hand in his own.

“ _I…I have very little to offer,”_ Caleb said, earning a roll of the eyes from the Copy. “ _But…_ ”

“Gods is he going to offer _kind words?_ Or pleas for mercy. Even more useless than the trinkets,” Copy scoffed, turning to face away from them and the warmth around Fjord cooled until he was shivering, the air growing more and more humid until it felt as though he were underwater, choking, gasping for air that wasn’t there…

“ ** _I know you are holding him there.”_**

The Copy paused, still facing away. Caleb’s voice was harsh, layered in energy and swelling with something almost violent in nature. Fjord could hear the words as if Caleb had spoken them, echoing around the space of the void but the projection of blue light didn’t move, his lips remaining still and in a thin line.

“This…is far more interesting than useless trinkets and pieces of information,” the Copy turned to face the projection, eyes alight with interest and teeth bared in an unnerving grin. “ _And what will you do about it?”_ he spoke in return, the words receiving a minor twitch from Caleb.

“ ** _You will return him.”_**

“ _Strong demands from a little fleshling. And what do I receive in exchange?”_ The Copy slinked over to Caleb’s form leaning over to whisper in his ear. “ _Will you provide your own soul in exchange? You have some potential. I could use you-“_

 ** _“You will return him. And I will not spend the rest of my life waging a bloody war against you and leaving a trail of your smouldering remains across the planes themselves because you_ kept him from me**,” Caleb ordered, the warmth returning to the room and the connection between his hand and Fjord’s brightening, turning the void from an inky black into a warm gold, then a brilliant white as the Copy straightened up and stepped backwards.

“ _Threatening me is unwise-“_

“ ** _It is not a threat. Threats are intended to frighten. I am…informing you. I will tear you to pieces and put you on display for every entity this side of the Divine Gate to see you turned to ruin if he does not take a breath in the next twenty seconds,”_** Caleb’s voice was stone, giving nothing, harsh and grating and Fjord could see, through the indignation, the irritation…the faintest trace of fear in the Copy’s face.

“ _You petulant, child-“_

_“ **Twenty.”**_

“ _You threaten me as if I were-“_

**_“Nineteen.”_ **

_“I will take his soul and_ reduce it to ash _if I so choose and you will beg my forgiveness as I’m tearing your soul to pieces for this slight!“_

_“ **…Five.”**_

The Copy’s jaw set and he looked between Fjord and the projection of Caleb, seeming to finally come to a decision, his hand raised towards Fjord, crackling with arcane energy.

“You will be worth more this time, Fjord. Or so help me, I will _burn your soul to ash along with his_.”

And then Fjord could breath again.

-

Have some art-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Breaching into some kinda Dark!Caleb territory here, he gets straight up murder-vibes. Hope y'all enjoyed, can't wait to release the last chapter for you all


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final goddamn chapter, hope y'all enjoyed this fic, I hope to post more in the future. Feel free to scream at me here in the comments or on tumblr at agentoakysart

**_ Chapter Nine _ **

“Thank the gods!”

“Jester, you did it.”

“Come on, lets get him out of here.”

The voices overlapped as Fjord dragged in breath after breath of stale, musty air, a hand clutching his tightly and another set pressed against his temples, a shock of blue hovering over him.

“Holy shit, it worked,” Jester breathed before she let out a shrill squeal and hunched over, enveloping Fjord in as good a hug as she could in that awkward position. “I’m so glad you are not dead I would have been so mad at you-“

“Jester, give the man a moment to breath. You can smother him when we get him back to the inn,” Molly promised, gently leading her back.

“Fjord.”

The quiet voice caught his attention, not that it was difficult when it was Caleb’s hand gripping his so tightly, his blue eyes damp with tears and a brilliant smile on his lips that robbed Fjord of what little breath was in his lungs. “I am glad you’re alright,” he said, and Fjord squeezed his hand.

“Likewise,” he replied, struggling to sit himself up. Caleb assisted where he could, until the half-orc was leaning against his shoulder, head weakly tipping against Caleb’s shoulder while he tried to catch his breath.

“We may need to discuss some things,” Caleb murmured, an arm gently snaking around Fjord’s shoulders while the others debated the best way to get Fjord back to the inn, deciding on Yasha carrying him so he wouldn’t risk falling and hurting himself further.

“Agreed.”

Caleb moved away when Yasha approached, only keeping a single hand on Fjord’s shoulder to keep him upright while she draped him over her back and carried him towards the inn, a firm glare directed to anyone that attempted to get too close to her or Fjord while the rest of the part followed after, answering any questions the townspeople asked.

-

Later that night found Fjord sitting in his room, the others leaving him be to recuperate with some food and a firm order that he call them if he needed anything at all. He insisted he’d be fine and that they should all go downstairs and drink, needing time on his own after the stress of the last week and they’d agreed easily enough, wishing him a peaceful rest and leaving the room quiet.

Fjord’s fingers brushed over the gouges in his shoulder where the _Draasta’s_ teeth had been set, the thick bandages that Jester had covered them with until she had enough energy in the morning to heal them herself lying on the bed. He winced when he accidentally pressed too firmly, jumping when he heard the door to his room creak.

“Its not wise to poke at wounds like that,” Caleb called from the door, startling Fjord out of his quiet. The wizard stood hesitantly in the doorway, halfway between entering, and apologising and leaving Fjord on his own.

“I’m smart, sure, but I wouldn’t say I’m very wise,” Fjord retorted with a cheeky grin, collecting the bandages and cloth padding. He tried covering the wound as best he could with one hand but unfortunately his hands shook too much, and they ended up a mess of tangled fabric until Caleb’s hands gently brushed his, taking the bandages himself and wrapping them around Fjord’s shoulder and chest. Every caress of his fingers against the bare skin of Fjord’s shoulder sent shivers down his spine and forced blood into his steadily reddening cheeks at being so close to Caleb in so little clothes. Especially after the only memory of him in his head being of him lying on top of him in a field, staring into his eyes. Wanting to close that distance…

“Fjord?”

The half-orc snapped out of his dazed staring at Caleb’s lips and smiled sheepishly.

“Apologies. Head’s a little fuzzy still. You were saying?”

“I wanted to discuss…well I know that what happened in there was upsetting. I wanted to apologise,” Caleb murmured, eyes fixed on his work as he tied off the bandages, fixing the arrangement but even though they were fine, he kept his hand on Fjord’s shoulder, thumb brushing almost absent-mindedly over Fjord’s bicep. The sensation was so distracting Fjord almost didn’t catch what Caleb had said.

“Wait, apologise? What the hell for?” the incredulity in his tone apparently confusing Caleb.

“For not being more helpful. For letting the _Draasta_ get to you, its my fault you-“ the wizards words cut off and Fjord felt them hang heavily in the air between them, turning the quiet in the room into an oppressive silence. One he didn’t intend on allowing to go on for very long.

“You saved me.”

Caleb shied away from the words, jerking back as if he’d been struck and this obscene amount of self-loathing flitted into his eyes.

“I killed you.”

“You sure as hell didn’t,” Fjord snapped back. Caleb’s hand slipped away but Fjord reached out and curled his fingers firmly around his wrist, maintaining that contact while he tried to look Caleb in the eyes but the wizard averted his gaze. “You look like you walked through hell and don’t think I don’t know how much energy it took to make those projections. You _dragged yourself into my dreams and pulled us both out_. Caleb. You saved my life.”

“Jester-“

“Jester revived me. If you hadn’t done what you did, there would have been nothing to revive. That thing would’ve been walkin’ around with my face and I’d be gone. I’m here because you didn’t let it. You didn’t let it kill me, you didn’t let my…my _benefactor_ , keep me away,” Fjord’s words made Caleb’s face pale.

“I…That was-“

“That was brave. You knew somethin’ was keeping me and…Caleb. Caleb, I was scared. I was so fuckin’ terrified bein’ alone in that forest. I thought I was gonna die but you made it okay. You gave me companionship, you helped me. And even through the static I thought of you. I could barely remember your name but I felt you. I felt your presence with me and gods above, I needed it,” Fjord’s fingers slipped down until they were intertwined with Caleb’s, ducking his head until Caleb’s eyes met his. “I needed _you_.”

Colour flooded Caleb’s cheeks and his lips parted wordlessly, his blue eyes flickering away from Fjord’s briefly and glancing at the half-orc’s lips.

“Fjord. Fjord are you-“

“If you say anything other than ‘confessing your feelings’ I will stop letting you steal my bacon,” Fjord jokingly threatened, managing to get a small smile from the man. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips and Fjord felt his brain jolt, his focus on nothing other than Caleb’s lips. “Caleb…In the field…I wanted somethin’. To do somethin’, and I think if I hadn’t ever asked, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. So, may I kiss you?”

Fjord swore Caleb stopped breathing for a moment, but it quickly returned, and he nodded his head but made no move forward. Fjord shuffled over in the bed, leaning over with one hand still intertwined with Caleb’s and the other curled around the arm of Caleb’s chair, helping keep himself steady as he leant in, breaths ghosting over Caleb’s lips for a moment as he watched the wizard for any sign of regret or reluctance. When he saw nothing but anticipation, he pressed forward, his lips brushing against Caleb’s in a gentle, chaste kiss.

It lasted only a moment but as he pulled away, the wizard’s eyes were hazy and dazed and his lips curled up in a smile that looked like he couldn’t even attempt to conceal it. Fjord’s cheeks flushed and he smiled in turn, stroking the back of Caleb’s knuckles with his thumb.

“So. I believe there’s other things to discuss. If you are amenable?” Caleb murmured, shuffling a little closer in his chair so his knees nudged the edge of the bed and his hand was resting with Fjord’s on the mattress.

“I would most definitely be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, if you'd like to see more, feel free to comment below or come scream at me on tumblr.


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